


Memories Are Made of This

by FleetSparrow



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: G slur, Gen, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 07:44:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16471577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetSparrow/pseuds/FleetSparrow
Summary: Dick Grayson gets kidnapped in his civilian ID, then shot on camera before terrified teens.  Jason Todd discovers a body in a Dumpster.  Bruce Wayne is on the hunt for the Terrible Trio.  And what does one do when they don't have their memories?





	1. Chapter 1

Dick tapped his pencil on his notes absently as the teacher prepared the next slide. He really was grateful to Bruce for setting him up in this class. It was all about business, which, frankly, Dick didn’t really care for, but he and Bruce had both agreed that it was important for him to be able to understand the functions and goings-on of Wayne Enterprises. Besides, any knowledge was good knowledge as far as Batman and Robin were concerned.

So here he was, one among a half dozen students whose parents were in the news more times than the weather, taking notes about business practices from what was possibly the driest teacher in the entire universe.

Yeah, class was going great.

“An easy way to remember one of the tenets of marketing is the phrase, ‘Keep your eye on your ROI.’”

The sound of frantically scribbling pencils and soft mutterings of assent followed his statement.

Dick subtly glanced at his watch. Only an hour and a half to go. Great.

The classroom door burst open and three masked gunmen entered, one with the head of a fox, one a shark, and one a vulture.

“The Terrible Trio,” Dick hissed under his breath, wishing he’d thought to bring his Robin suit to class. At least he still had the comm in his wristwatch.

Fox stepped forward. “Alright, we just need a few of you to come with us and the rest of you will all be fine.”

The teacher made a move towards the classroom phone. Before he could reach it, Vulture shot it off the wall. “Looks like my aim was off a little. I’ll make the shot next time.”

“Don’t think any of us are shabby shots, either,” Fox said, his smile clear in his tone. “You better cooperate with Shark here, kids. His bite’s much worse than his bark.”

Shark went around the room, gun drawn, pulling students out of their seats. Dick turned on his comm, transmitting the audio straight to the Batcomputer. Even if Bruce wasn’t there now, he’d hear it soon.

Shark suddenly grabbed him. “And the biggest catch of them all. Dick Grayson.”

“That’s all we need, kids,” Fox said, while Vulture finished handcuffing the five others that had been pulled aside. “Just go back to your class and have a good lesson. Make sure you study hard! Business is important!”

“Must be where you learned treachery,” Dick said, putting up only a minor struggle as his hands were cuffed behind him.

Fox laughed. “Strong words from a gypsy.”

Dick lurched instinctively, trying to lunge for him, but was jerked back by Shark’s sharp pull on his arms.

“Hall’s clear,” Vulture said. “Let’s go.”

The trapped teens were led out of the building, a few nearly in tears as they marched. Dick eyed the Trio. As Robin, he knew he could take them all, but with his hands cuffed and still in his identity as Dick Grayson—not to mention the gun in his back—there wasn’t anything he _could_ do, not without risking the other students’ lives. The Trio had their guns drawn and focused, and Dick didn’t want to give them any reason to start using them.

Fox pulled Dick in front, making him lead the group as they headed through the parking lot. “Anyone tries anything funny, you’re my best shield, Grayson.”

Dick just bit his cheek and silently kept walking.

The teens were forced into the back of a van, Shark following them to stay as a guard while the other two rode in front. With the relative calmness of the drive, Dick looked over the captives. All of them came from Gotham’s richest families, from the ones that were doing the most successfully in the markets now. All families that could pay heavy ransoms for the return of their heirs.

His thoughts were broken by a sharp poke to the side from Shark’s gun.

“That’s a hell of a watch you’ve got there, gypsy boy,” he said. “Maybe we should send that to old Wayne, let him know how his favorite toy’s doing.”

Dick glared at him. The watch had a tracer in it, perfect for telling Bruce where they’d be held, but with the way Shark was eyeing it, Dick wasn’t sure if he should risk it getting opened. Shark’s body language gave Dick the impression he wasn’t planning on sending it anywhere anytime soon, and if the Trio found the comm….

“You like it?” Dick asked, smiling innocently. He slammed the watch face against the side of the van twice, shattering it beyond repair. “You should have it. It’ll match your morals.”

Shark growled in frustration and slammed the side of his gun against Dick’s face, knocking Dick into the lap of the frightened girl beside him. “Don’t taunt me, fucktoy, or you’ll get a lot worse than that.”

Dick glared daggers at him, but sat up, whispering a small, “Sorry” to the girl he fell on. Whatever had already been sent would have to be enough for now. He hoped it would be.

Twenty-nine minutes later, the van finally stopped for good. By Dick’s calculations based on the number of turns and stops they’d made, he guessed that they were somewhere in the Garment District. He wished he could be more precise, but in the back of the windowless van and the several extraneous turns, that was about the closest he could figure.

One of the Trio banged three times on the van before opening the door. “Let’s get ‘em out, Shark. We’ve got work to do.”

Dick checked out his surroundings as soon as he was pulled from the van. He was right; they were in front of what looked like a garage-turned-warehouse for a fabric supplier. As the teens were quickly ushered inside, Dick caught the toe of his shoe on the side of the roller door pole.

“Real graceful, Grayson,” Vulture said, yanking Dick back up to his feet.

Dick grumbled at him, but he smiled to himself as Shark rolled the door down. During his trip, he’d dislodged the hidden tracer in the toe of his shoe, popping it off by the door of the warehouse. It was a low frequency tracer, meant for following at close range, so it wouldn’t register until Batman was within about 200 yards, but the Garment District was on a fairly standard patrol route. Bruce would see it soon.

The six teens were tied to chairs along a blank white wall, rough strips of cloth pulled tight around their mouths as gags. It made Dick suspicious. He’d seen the Terrible Trio in action before, and they were all better planners than this. This seemed too low for them, too disorganized. Unless that’s what they were going for.

Vulture set up a camera tripod while Fox dusted off his clothes, as if preparing for an interview.

“Ready?” Fox asked, looking over at the camera.

Vulture nodded. “Ready.” He started the camera recording and took his place on the other side of the bound teens.

Fox walked in front of the camera, bending to stare at it straight on up close. “Hello, Commissioner,” he said. “Parents. I have a surprise for you.”

He moved around the camera, letting it record the terrified students flanked by Vulture and Shark. “As you can see, your precious trust fund babies are a bit tied up by more than their schoolwork. If you want to get them back, you’ll each deliver one million dollars in small bills to this address by midnight tonight.” He held a piece of paper in front of the camera for ten seconds.

“You could always decide you don’t _want_ to pay, of course,” he said, moving back in view of the camera. “Maybe you don’t like them as much as people think. But for every payment that isn’t received, we’ll play a little roulette and see who doesn’t get claimed.”

Fox turned back to the camera and held up his revolver. “There are six bullets in here, one for each brat you have. Don’t pay? It might not be your kid that gets one.” He reached over and shut off the camera, letting his gun be the last image recorded.

“Well, that should make the bastards pay.”

Shark laughed. “How many do you think won’t?”

Fox shrugged. “We’ve got a Daggett kid in here, right?” The boy to Dick’s left started trembling. “That’s who my money’s on. C’mon, we gotta get this tape to Gordon.”

As Shark and Vulture gathered the camera and headed out, Fox waved his revolver at the teens in a mock salute. “Have fun, kiddies. Better hope your parents love you enough.”

With a last laugh, the Terrible Trio slammed the door shut, leaving Dick and the others alone in the darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

The instant Bruce received Gordon’s call, he started the Batcomputer to scan for any sign of Dick or any message from him. The radio transmission popped up instantly, having been stored and waiting for the past few hours. He set the computer to continue searching for a signal as he headed for police headquarters. Alfred would have to stay at the Manor and let him know what came through. Right now, Bruce Wayne was needed publicly, even if Batman would be more useful to the missing teens.

The other parents were already in Gordon’s office when he arrived. Roland Daggett was all but shouting at the commissioner, demanding to know what was being done to find his son and why hadn’t the police brought in the villains who did this. A few of the other couples joined in the interrogation, emboldened by Daggett’s temper and volume. Only one couple sat alone in the back of the office, a rosary clutched between their clasped hands.

The Halls were not old money by any means. Their sudden fortune and rise to the top of society had startled everyone, especially them. They were a husband and wife science team, one that Bruce had been keeping an eye on for Wayne Enterprises until their sudden accomplishment with wireless transmission. They were making progress in places Bruce hadn’t expected, with uses more practical for Batman than the general public at this stage. While Jordan Hall continued to work in his new lab across the bay, Beatriz had been doing most of her work from home, away from the businesses and the press, but close to their child. From what Bruce could see of the whiteness in her knuckles, both of them were terrified.

Beatriz met his eyes when he came in, an almost imperceptible spark of hope and recognition lit up in them, and she beckoned him with a small nod.

Bruce pulled a chair around beside them, resting his hand on top of theirs in solidarity. “The police will find them. Wherever they are, whatever the ransomers want, we’ll get them back.”

“I’m glad you’re sure, Bruce,” Jordan said. “I sincerely mean that.”

Commissioner Gordon’s voice cut through the din. “Ladies and gentlemen, _please_! Now that you’re all here, I can give you the information you need. Time is of the essence, so please, no interruptions. Any questions must wait until you’ve seen everything.”

He picked up a letter from his desk. “This was attached to the tape that was delivered to us less than an hour ago. It reads, ‘The terms of the ransom are included in the video. However, there is one addition. Batman _must_ be the person to deliver the ransom at the appointed time, and no one else. Not the police, not the parents. Only Batman.’”

The commissioner looked them over, his eyes almost challenging someone to speak out against that condition, but no one did. “And now, I’ll show you the tape. Your children are all alive and unharmed as of the filming, but it is still distressing.” He nodded to an officer who turned off the lights as the video began playing.

Bruce kept his attention on the parents around him, watching for all signs of reactions. He would see the video again when he returned as Batman, and would have a better opportunity then to study it in detail.

Most of the parents looked horrified, clutching each other and obviously trying to think of what they would do to get the ransom. Roland Daggett’s back visibly tightened as he watched, but whether it was from anger or worry—or a combination of the two—Bruce couldn’t tell. At the final threat of murder, the room took in a collective gasp.

The lights came up as the video ended, everyone visibly shaken.

“Now you know what we’re all up against,” Commissioner Gordon said. “The fact that this tape was sent to the precinct and the fact that they want Batman himself to deliver the ransoms means they are not worried about being caught. This also means they likely have no qualms about hurting your children. This is not the time for any sort of tricks or cleverness. We all have to play this by their rules, that includes the police department and Batman.”

He looked them over, his expression softening now that he was finished with his commands. “Rest assured, once your children are safe, we will catch this gang. I promise you that as a father.”

“Wayne Enterprises will be more than happy to make up the difference for any of us who can’t access that kind of cash,” Bruce said, making sure to lock eyes with each parent. “This shouldn’t have to come down to who can or can’t afford their children’s lives.”

“Daggett Industries will offer the same,” Roland said, nodding sharply to Bruce. “Even I know when to put aside my pride.”

“Good,” Gordon said. “We’ve got that settled.”

He motioned to the officer by the door. “You will each have an escort while you obtain your funds. If we receive any more information or demands, you will be informed immediately. Once the money is delivered, you are free to wait here or in your homes, wherever you feel more comfortable. We will reach you as soon as we know anything more.”

There was a long moment of tense silence where it seemed like no one even dared to breathe. Finally, Roland Daggett nodded and left, breaking the others out of their stupor to follow him out.

Beatriz took Bruce's hand as they passed. “If there's anything you need...."

He nodded, rubbing his thumb gently against her bony knuckles. “Keep that offer open."

Jordan patted Bruce's shoulder in thanks, and the two walked out, leaving only Bruce and the commissioner alone in the office.

“That was a generous offer, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce's lip twisted upwards. “I couldn't afford not to be. ”

“Do you think they'll honor it? If everything's delivered?"

"I hope so. You have more experience with the Terrible Trio than I."

"But they're your type of people."

Bruce frowned. “My _class_ maybe. I wouldn't kidnap kids for a rush."

Jim nodded. “I trust you wouldn't, but still, the idle rich."

"I'm not quite that idle," Bruce said. “I'll see you later, Commissioner."

If Bruce's voice dropped to a lower register on his parting words, neither man acknowledged it. Bruce Wayne left the police station, but Batman would return soon.


	3. Chapter 3

"You sure it was really him," Shark asked, closing up the fifth briefcase of money.

"I saw him with my own two eyes," Fox said.

He flipped through the stacks of bills, checking to make sure they were all full and real, just as they should be. He passed the case over to Shark for final counting.

"Number six, right here," he said as Vulture handed over the final case. "You should all proud. Looks like mommy and daddy love you after all."

"So now you'll let us go?" Rosario Hall asked, her voice miraculously not trembling as much as the rest of her.

Fox leaned back in his seat and looked over the stack of briefcases to his left. “No. That wouldn't be any fun. Let's make them doubt each other."

He stood up and pulled on his mask, waving for Shark to grab the camera. “I think it's time to teach you all a hard truth about life. Anyone can lie for any reason. Lesson two of business. Promises don't exist."

"We're on."

Fox pulled out his gun and walked in front of the camera. “Hello there, panicked parents. Well, it pains me to say, but it looks like one of you didn't love your kid as much as you've always claimed. Unfortunately, since you didn't leave a card to say who didn't bring the money, we may have to pick the kid we think had the poor parents."

Rosario paled and shrank in her seat as if she hoped to disappear.

Fox raised his gun for the camera, then pointed it at her. “What a shame."

When he aimed, Dick rocked his chair to the side, knocking himself and Rosario to the ground as the gun went off, the bullet striking the empty wall.

Fox swore, lowering the gun. “You little shit!"

He stomped forward, yelling at Shark to stop the camera. He pulled Dick up by the collar, growling as he shook him. “Think you're a little hero, don't you, Grayson? Think you're a rich boy Robin? You'll see what happens to heroes."

He threw Dick back down. "Shark, start the camera! You and Vulture come here and hold him. We'll see if Wayne misses you enough to replace you."

* * *

A handful of parents were once again gathered in the Gotham police station, waiting for news of their children. Another tape had been delivered, and the commissioner was in his office watching it alone. After several tense minutes, the window to the office opened and a shadowy figure stepped inside.

"Has something gone wrong?" Batman asked.

Gordon sat down behind his desk. “They went back on their deal to keep the kids safe. The video is...." He trailed off, laying his head in his hands.

“What happened?"

"They murdered Dick Grayson."

Batman was silent.

Gordon reached over to the unopened pack of cigarettes on his desk, tearing it open roughly. "Christ, I hate this part of the job." He took a long drag and looked up at Batman. “You know as well as I do that everything was delivered. You know everything went right." His eyes were lined red, his tone almost plaintive.

Batman didn't reply to him. "Let me see it."

Gordon sighed and shook his head. “I'm gonna go get a coffee. I don't want to see that again."

Batman waited silently until Gordon had gone before playing the tape.

* * *

Dick struggled as the two lifted him out of the chair. He was untied, and if there was ever going to be a good time for escape it was now, but he couldn't risk being exposed. Even if that wasn't a worry, he still had no weapons and no way to contact Bruce. Plus, with the other hostages there, he couldn't risk a stray bullet hitting one of them.

The camera was on again, pointed right at him. Fox was speaking into it.

"This is the kind of thing we were hoping to avoid, but as you see, _hero_ here forced our hand. Now the price is two million, or every one of them goes."

Dick braced himself as Fox took aim. If he timed this right, he might be able to just avoid the bullet. The gun pulled slightly to the left and Fox's aim was a bit high. He stared straight into the eyes of Fox's mask, keeping his gaze steady. Even through the false head, Dick could read him well enough.

“Say hi to your parents, gypsy boy," Fox said.

Dick's stomach clenched, his body automatically tensing at the slur, ready to launch into a fight. It took up a second's reaction time he couldn't afford.

The gun fired and Dick dropped his head, an explosion of pain striking him. He heard Rosario scream, but really it was his mother as she fell, screaming for him. Darkness flashed before him in the shape of a bat, and then Dick felt nothing more.


	4. Chapter 4

The alleys along Crime Alley were equal parts terrifying, disgusting, tragic, and educational in ways you didn't want to learn, sometimes all of the above all at once. Street kids had learned long ago that if you saw something strange down a dark side street, you left it alone. Still, you couldn't pass up every alley. There were one or two businesses left that didn't seem to realize the area's Park Row days were done and still tried to cater to a clientele that felt the same. Those were the ones you had to check. Rich people threw out all kinds of great things.

That was the reason why Jason Todd, thirteen year old head of his household, was making his way down the alley beside Angelino's to go check out their dumpster. It was a Wednesday, and Wednesdays meant all-you-can-eat specials at lunchtime. Plus, there was usually a nice cook that always took his smoke break around one who would usually bring Jason a cup of soup for talking to him. That was a nice bonus.

Jason scraped his shoe on the side of the dumpster as he prepared to climb it. There was some kind of weird brownish-red liquid on the ground that was getting awfully sticky in the summer heat. He really hoped it was just spaghetti sauce. A quick jump and swing and Jason was in the bin.

There was some more of the substance around, sticking to bags and blackened on the edges. Blood. He let out a grossed out yet sympathetic groan. “I really hope you're just from a pigeon," he said, eyeing it warily. He covered his mouth with his hand, took a deep breath, and opened one of the bags, sticking his head in to get a good look.

A second later, he hit the back of the dumpster screaming loud enough to probably be heard inside.

There was a body in the trash bag.

Collecting himself with a few deep breaths, he peeked over the top of the dumpster. No one seemed to be reacting to his scream, so Jason turned back to the bag. The boy inside was only a few years older than him, or so Jason thought. It was a little hard to tell when half his face was covered in blood. Jason pulled the bag down, trying to see if he had any ID. The boy didn't look hurt anywhere else except for his face, but Jason really want in the mood to start poking at a dead body any more than necessary.

He had just managed to find nothing in the boy's pockets when he moved.

The body moved.

The boy twitched as if startled in a dream, but didn't open his eyes. Jason slowly peeled himself from the back wall once again. OK, so, dead body was not so dead after all. That was great. Jason turned the boy's head to see the less bloodied side, and the boy moaned.

“Hey. Wake up," Jason said, poking the stranger in the cheek.

The boy muttered something in a language Jason didn't know. Jason tried again in Spanish. Still nothing.

Frustrated and more than a little concerned, Jason tried to make him sit up. “Come on, you gotta get up."

Jason's hand brushed the wound on the boy's head, and the boy let out a yelp, sitting up sharply.

“Well at least that worked." Jason held up his hands. "It's alright. I'm just trying to help you. You're hurt."

The older boy stared at him, his eyes wide, but his brows furrowed.

Jason pointed to his head in the place the other boy was injured. “Your head. You're hurt. You need help."

The boy reached up tentatively, as if he didn't know what he'd find as he imitated Jason. He pulled his hand down with a gasp, his fingertips sticky with congealed blood.

Jason nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I mean."

The boy said something again in the language Jason didn't know and Jason shook his head. "I got nothing. Listen, do you know where you live? Do you have a home? Casa?"

The boy shook his head, frowning in confusion. Well this was getting them nowhere.

Jason pointed to himself. "Come home with me. I have food." He pointed to a pile of discarded breadsticks. “Food."

The boy held up a hand and shook his head as if to say he didn't want any.

“Alright, snob, you don't have to eat that," Jason said, rolling his eyes. “I'll see if I can get us some soup." He climbed out to the ground and waited for the older boy. “You coming?" When it seemed like he was actually following him, Jason headed to the kitchen door.

A few moments later, the cook appeared with a to-go container of soup. “Hey, Mini-Death. Did you hear that scream a little while ago?"

"Yeah, it was me. I got surprised." He cocked his head towards the boy by the dumpster. “Any chance I could get another one for my friend?"

The cook frowned. “Where's he from? I haven't seen you with anybody before."

"He was the surprise. Look, can I get another one or not? He's still kinda bleeding and I can't really carry him back to my place on my own, y'know?"

The cook kept eyeing the new boy suspiciously, but nodded. “Yeah, sure, gimme a sec." He headed back inside and Jason turned back to the stranger.

“I need to give you a name. Do you know your name?"

The boy shrugged and shook his head, responding again in his language.

“Well at least you figured out it was a question." Jason looked at him for a minute, sizing him up. “I'm gonna call you... Tony. That seems good enough for now."

"Tony" smiled and Jason felt a strange guilt hit him. “We'll figure out your name soon, don't worry."

The cook returned with a second cup and a bag. “I snagged some stuff from a couple orders that were sent back. Thought you could use them."

Jason smiled. “Thanks. I'll take 'em."

The cook held up a wet cloth. “I also brought... I mean, he's bleeding a lot. Thought he might wanna clean up."

"Thanks," Jason repeated, looking obviously grateful. Tony seemed to be just as happy, scrubbing his face as much as he could. “I owe you one."

He waved it off. “Hey, no sweat, little man. Just take care, OK?"

"Yeah, well do. Much as I can, anyway."

The cook nodded, pulling out his cigarettes. “Cool. Say, and if you read anything new, let me know, yeah? Been itching for a new book."

Jason grinned. “Sure thing. Library's doing a donation sale this weekend, I'll show you my haul next week."

"Sounds like a plan, little man." He gave a quick salute. “Stay safe, Mini-Death."

"You too." Jason beckoned to Tony. “C'mon, let's go home." For once, Jason was glad his landlord was gone for the week. That'd give him a little bit more time to figure out what to do with Tony No-Name. Who knows? Maybe somebody would put up lost teenager signs.


	5. Chapter 5

Batman had searched what felt like all of Gotham and still there was no sign of Dick. He'd seen the tilt of Dick's head the instant of the shot by replaying the video. Head wounds bled a lot, but Dick's didn't look fatal. If only he could find him!

Right now, he was outside the warehouse where the Terrible Trio were hiding. Dick's tracker had been placed there and it registered on his map. The money had been delivered and Bruce had followed Vulture back here. He had alerted the GCPD and now two plain cars were coming up the street towards him. He'd need all the backup he could to save those kids.

He dropped down to the ground and walked up to the warehouse door. There was a button to open the door. He pressed it, then shot a grapple to the roof. The Terrible Trio came out, guns blazing.

“What is this?” Shark said.

“There's no one here,” Vulture said.

Batman dropped down behind them.

As they began to turn around, Batman kicked the gun out of Shark's hand, hit Vulture’s with a batarang, and caught Fox with his fist, feeling his cheekbone shatter under the mask. Batman spun around, grabbing Shark's mask and flinging him into Vulture. He punched Fox again, then dragged him into Shark, knocking the three of them down. Police officers arrived on the scene.

“Take them,” Batman said. “I'll get the kids.”

He strode into the warehouse, past the upright camera, to the row of kids tied to chairs. His stomach clenched at the sight of the empty, bloodstained chair in the middle.

“You're safe now,” he said to the frightened teens. One by one, he undid the ropes that held him. “Go with the police. They'll take you back to your parents.”

Nodding, the teens went ahead, met by a team of police and EMTs to check on them.

Batman stood at the window of the police car that held the Terrible Trio.

“Tell Bruce Wayne,” said Fox, muffled, “that it was the best thrill in the world.”

Batman said nothing.

He headed back to the Batmobile to change into Bruce Wayne to meet the families at the police station.

By the time he arrived, the kids were being reunited with their parents. Bruce looked around hopefully.

“Where's Dick?” he asked Commissioner Gordon.

Rosario let out a sob and hugged Bruce.

“I'm so sorry,” she said, tears spilling down her face. “The Terrible Trio. They shot him. He was trying to protect me.”

Her parents came over and gently guided her to sit down. Bruce looked at Gordon, his face frozen. “Is that--?”

Gordon nodded solemnly. “I'm afraid it's true. In their second video, they…. You shouldn't watch it, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce sat heavily in a chair, letting it hit him for the first time. Even if Dick wasn't dead, like he suspected, he couldn't be doing too well. Who knew where he could be or in what state?

Bruce put his face in his hands. Gordon offered him a cup of coffee. He nodded, not looking up. Dick was a hero, no matter what. If only Bruce could find him.

* * *

Jason led Tony back to his apartment, setting out the soup bowls for them.

“Mmm, minestrone! My favorite,” Jason said, smiling at him. Tony smiled back easily, a nice friendly smile. Well, at least Tony didn't look like he was gonna rob him or anything.

“Well, mangia, mangia!”

Tony said something in that language Jason didn't understand, but he tucked into his soup, so Jason figured he must have got the hint.

“OK, let’s try something easy,” Jason said, as they ate. “What’s your name?”

Tony looked at him politely, but blankly.

“Uh, que es tu nombre?”

Tony shook his head.

“OK. Comment t’appelle tu?”

“Je m’appelle Dick.”

“Dick.”

Dick nodded.

“Good. And you speak the one language I really don’t know. Great.”

Dick smiled.

“So, Dick. I’m Jason,” he said, pointing to himself. “Jason.”

“Jason.” Dick said something long in that foreign language and Jason sighed. This wasn’t gonna be easy at all.

“Uh, voulez-vous couchez avec moi, ce soir?” Jason said, trying to remember what little French he’d picked up.

“Quoi?” Dick looked shocked and mildly horrified. Oh god, what had he said?

“Nothing! Never mind,” Jason said, waving his arms in front of him. This was why you didn’t pick up languages through songs. “Eat your soup.”

Dick eyed him warily, but went back to eating. Jason leaned his head on his hand. How was he going to communicate with someone who could barely speak to him? He looked at Dick, watching him eat. He had really good manners, Jason could tell, because he wasn’t wolfing down his food like Jason was. Maybe that wasn’t much to go by, but it was more than nothing.

After they had finished eating, Jason showed Dick around his apartment.

"It's not much," Jason said. "I mean, it's really not anything. Nobody knows I'm here, except the landlord. But he doesn't care. I mean, nobody else wants to live in this dump." He looked over at Dick, who was looking at him with blithe interest. He didn't understand a word of what Jason was saying.

He sighed. "Uh, je... j'habite... solo?"

Dick cocked his head, frowning slightly as he tried to parse that.

"Never mind," Jason said, shaking his head. "Anyway, here's the bedroom. There's the bed. Well, just a mattress, but it's OK. No springs or anything. I got it from the giving tree down the street. That's where everyone leaves stuff they wanna get rid of.

"And there's the bathroom. You kinda have to fight the cockroaches for the shower, but it's OK." He looked up at Dick. "What's your place like?"

Dick looked almost sad. Jason couldn't tell if it was because of the state of the apartment or because he couldn't understand him, but he felt heat rush to his cheeks. Sure, the place wasn't much, but it was home. When he could pay for it.

"C'mon," he said, taking Dick's hand. "Let's go out."

He led Dick out of the apartment building and out to the streets. They wandered the streets of Crime Alley, Jason pointing out interesting places that Dick couldn't understand, and generally just talking. Dick was attentive at least, clearly trying to understand what Jason said. It was dark before they got home again, Jason sneaking Dick in more carefully this time.

"Sorry we don't have dinner," he said. "You're probably used to three meals." He looked over Dick's clothes. They looked expensive, at least, more expensive than anything Jason owned, which wasn't saying too much.

Dick said something to him and patted his shoulder. Jason took that to mean he was OK forgoing dinner.

Jason yawned and headed in to the bedroom. "You can take the mattress. I'm used to the floor."

Dick laid down on the bed, under the one sweat-stained sheet, and looked at Jason. He patted the bed beside him.

"No, that's OK. You go ahead."

Dick frowned and pointed to Jason, then the bed. Jason sighed.

"Alright, alright. I'll sleep here too."

He climbed in beside Dick, curling up on his side. Dick watched him, then wrapped an arm around him. Jason froze. Nobody had held him while he slept since his mom. It felt... kinda good. He figured Dick wouldn't try anything funny with him, especially since Dick seemed to have fallen asleep immediately. Exhaling slowly, he relaxed, letting Dick hold him while he drifted off to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

"Have they said where they dumped the body yet?" Batman asked Commissioner Gordon.

"No, dammit. They lawyered up as soon as they came in. We haven't been able to ask them anything, even what's on the tape. The lawyers keep saying with no body, there's no proof of a crime."

"Kidnapping, assault--"

"You know it and I know it. But their money talks louder in Gotham than we do."

Batman frowned. "I'll keep looking."

"Who knows where they could've left him." Gordon sat down and sighed. "I just wish I had something to tell Bruce Wayne. The kid deserves a proper funeral."

Batman put a hand on Gordon's shoulders. "We'll find him."

"You talk like he might still be alive."

"Who knows?" Gordon looked down at his desk and Batman slipped out of the office into the night.

"Still no sign of him," Batman said into his comm link. "I watched that tape. Dick's alive somewhere, I can feel it."

"Yes, sir," Alfred replied. "Have you checked all the hospitals? The clinics?"

"I'm working on them," he said, swinging across town. "I'm going to see Leslie. She might have an idea where he could have gone, if not to her."

"Very good, sir."

* * *

Dick woke up in a strange room. A boy was standing over him--who? Jason! That's right. Jason had brought him home. He was saying something in that strange language Dick almost knew, but couldn't make sense of. It was very frustrating.

Jason pulled on Dick's arm as if he wanted Dick to stand up, so Dick did. Jason pushed him back to a closet and told him something. Dick guessed it was to stay there, so he did.

Inside the closet, he heard raised voices from the outside, the other room. One of the voices was Jason, he knew, but the other voice was unknown to him. Of course, most things were unknown to him right now. He had no idea where he was, for example, aside from being wherever Jason lived.

The voices got louder and Dick heard a slap and a dull thud, like a body dropping to the ground. He rounded out of the closet, intent on stopping whatever was going on. A large man stood in the doorway, watching him. Behind him, on the floor, was Jason, his eyes pleading. The man reared back for a punch, and Dick dropped low, taking the legs out from under him. He followed it with a punch to the jaw as the man fell. The man hit the floor hard.

Dick hopped over him to Jason, touching his face and the new bruise forming. <Are you all right?> Dick asked in Romanes.

Jason gave him a tight smile, then looked over at the man. He said something to Dick, and Dick looked behind him. The man was out cold.

<Was that your dad?>

Jason just shook his head, not answering Dick's question. Suddenly, Jason was on his feet, pulling Dick up to standing. He said something and tugged Dick's hand, leading him out of the apartment. Maybe Jason knew where Dick belonged. Maybe he figured it out. Dick followed him. Jason was small, he needed looking after, and Dick was determined to look after him.

* * *

Jason led Dick through the streets toward Crime Alley. They were just passing the old theater when Dick stopped so abruptly Jason almost went over backwards.

“What is it?” Jason asked.

Dick said something Jason didn’t understand, but Jason understood the look on his face. He was remembering something.

“Do you know this place?” Jason asked. “Have you been here before?”

Just as suddenly as Dick had stopped, he shook his head, the memory disappearing. He turned to Jason and smiled. Jason sighed and took his hand again.

“C’mon. We’ve gotta see the doctor.”

Jason led Dick further down to a small clinic, where he filled out Dick’s paperwork as best he could.

“I don’t know what he speaks,” Jason said to Shirley, the receptionist. “But I think he kinda understands English? He speaks French pretty well, so that might work.”

“Don’t worry, Jay,” Shirley said, smiling at him as she took the forms. “We’ll find some way to talk to him. Is he your brother?”

“No, I just met him yesterday.” Jason turned to face Dick. They could almost be brothers, at least half-brothers. “I don’t even know how old he is.”

Shirley looked at Dick appraisingly. “Eighteen, nineteen? That’s my guess.”

Leslie called from the doorway. “Jason! What happened?”

Jason touched his swollen cheek. “Ah, it’s nothing, Dr. Leslie. I really came here for him.” He pointed to Dick.

Leslie’s gaze followed Jason’s direction, and she gasped when she saw Dick. Her face paled, as though she’d just seen a ghost. “Jason. Help me get him back here.”

Jason took Dick’s hand and led him to the office.

“He’s been injured. I fed him yesterday and he seemed to be doing better, but I think he got shot. There’s burns on his head.”

Leslie examined Dick’s wound and Jason assisted her in cleaning it.

“Dick. What happened to you?”

Dick looked at Leslie and frowned. He said something in that other language and Leslie blinked in surprise.

“Jason, where did you find him?”

“In a dumpster outside Angelino’s. He was inside a black bag. I figured he was safer with me than staying there.”

“Good boy,” Leslie said. “You did the right thing. Has he been able to tell you anything?”

Jason shook his head. “He speaks French, but I really don’t know it.”

Dick spoke again.

“And he speaks that, which I don’t know at all.”

Leslie nodded, eyeing Dick carefully. “Stay with him. I need to make a call.”

Jason looked between her and Dick. “Is he in trouble?”

“No! No, but I know where he came from.”

Jason nodded, and after she left, hopped up on the chair beside Dick. “I guess this is good. You do have a home after all.”

Dick said something, then shook his head. He pressed his hands to his face and groaned.

“What’s wrong? Headache? Uh…mal au tête?”

“Non. Je ne me souviens rien.”

“You don’t…souviens? I don’t know what that means.”

Dick sighed and said something in his other language.

“Right. Same.”

They sat in silence until Leslie returned, looking slightly harried. “He’ll be here soon. Do you need anything? Some water?”

“Who’s coming?” Jason asked.

“Bruce Wayne.”

Jason’s eyes popped. “The Bruce Wayne? Why?”

“This is Dick Grayson. His ward.”


	7. Chapter 7

Bruce nearly broke several speed laws in his race to get to Leslie’s. He practically ran through the clinic looking for Dick before Leslie caught him.

"Where is he?"

"He's inside. He's hurt, but that's not all, Bruce. He doesn't seem to remember me."

Bruce barely heard her, already halfway through the door. He paused and turned back. "Doesn't remember you?"

"He also doesn't seem to remember how to speak English," she said. "Or understand it. Be patient with him."

Bruce gripped the door frame tightly before heading in.

"Bruce!"

Bruce drew in a sharp breath at the sight of Dick. Leslie had bandaged his wound, but the reminder of what had nearly happened to him was overwhelming. Dick. He could have lost him for good.

Bruce came over and took Dick's hands. "Dick. You remember me."

<You're the first person I remember,> Dick said in Romanes. Bruce frowned.

<You don't remember anyone else?>

<I don't know anyone else.>

Bruce squeezed Dick's hands and looked at the boy beside him. He was young, maybe twelve if he was a day, but he watched Bruce with a mixture of awe and suspicion.

Dick noticed the two of them staring at each other and let go of Bruce's hand, wrapping an arm around Jason.

"Jason," he said in introduction. "Bruce."

"How do you know Dick?" Bruce asked.

"I found him," Jason said, and if he leaned in protectively towards Dick, neither of them mentioned it. "In a dumpster outside Angelino's. He was wrapped up in a bag."

<Do you remember that, Dick?> Bruce asked. <Do you remember getting shot?>

<Shot?> Dick shook his head. <I don't remember that. Are you sure?>

Bruce frowned. Just how much had Dick forgotten? If he couldn't remember English, did he remember being Robin? These were questions Bruce couldn't ask yet, not until they were alone. Then maybe he could show Dick the videos and perhaps jolt his memory.

He turned to Leslie. "I'll be taking Dick back home now."

Jason looked to Dick, who was trying to follow Bruce's conversation. It wasn't fair. Jason had protected Dick for, well, all of two days, but still. He felt some connection with Dick. After all, Dick had protected him, too.

Bruce came back to Dick. <We're going home.>

<What about Jason?>

Jason perked up at his name and looked between Bruce and Dick.

<What about him?>

<I think I beat up his father. He can't just go home. He'll hit him again.> Dick's eyes were wide, pleading.

Bruce sighed. He couldn't force the boy to come with them, and, being a kid, he shouldn't be going anywhere but home. But Dick wouldn't take no for an answer, he knew that. Not when he dug in his heels. And could he really send a child back to an abusive home without a chance?

"Do you want to go home?" Bruce asked Jason.

Jason looked at Dick and shook his head. "Not really. Only thing that's waiting for me is the landlord, and he's probably pretty pissed off right now. Dick hit him pretty good."

So Dick remembered some of his training. That boded well.

“All right. If you want to come with us, you can. Do you have any parents waiting for you?”

“They’re dead,” Jason said.

“There’s no one looking after you?”

“I look after myself!”

Dick squeezed Jason's shoulder, not understanding the words, but sensing the tone of them.

<Alright, Dick. He's coming with us.>

Dick beamed at Bruce and hopped off the table, taking Jason's hand. The two of them followed Bruce out to his car and home to Wayne Manor.

Once at home, Bruce turned Jason over to Alfred's care. "There are some things I need to discuss with Dick privately. Alfred, show Jason around and give him anything he asks for."

"Very good, sir."

Jason eyed Bruce suspiciously. "It's not like I understand what you're saying to him anyway...."

Alfred jumped in. "Come, Master Jason. Let's see if we can't find you something to eat. You look like you could do with some dinner."

"Sure, I guess. I mean, thanks."

One hand at his shoulder, Alfred guided Jason to the kitchen, leaving Bruce and Dick alone.

Bruce took Dick's hand. <There are a few things I need to show you. Do you remember being Robin?>

Dick cocked his head. <Robin? That's my mom's nickname for me. Do you mean that?>

Bruce frowned. <No. Come, Dick. Let me show you.>

He led Dick to the study, down the stairs to the Batcave. Dick looked stunned, as awed as if he'd never seen the place before.

Bruce pulled up the video of Dick getting shot, and sat Dick down in the Batcomputer chair.

<This might be hard to watch, but I'm hoping you'll remember some of this.> With one hand on Dick's shoulder, he played the video.

Dick watched, enraptured. It was like watching himself in a fun house mirror. This had actually happened to him. He touched the bandage on his head. Yes, it matched the shot perfectly. Yet he had no memory of it. What else couldn't he remember? He didn't remember this place, not really, only a strong sense of déjà vu. Did that mean he really had been here before?

Dick sighed in frustration. There were so many things that felt just out of his reach, like the way he almost understood what people were saying to him. Like the way that he remembered Bruce, but not in any way that helped. He remembered he trusted Bruce--trusted him with his very life, he was sure of it--yet he didn't know why. What was so deep in their relationship?

<Do you remember?> Bruce asked.

Dick shook his head. <What happened? Who did this?>

<They're called the Terrible Trio.> Bruce pulled up more pictures of them. <Do you recognize them?>

A fox, a vulture, and a shark. Had they haunted his dreams? He couldn't remember, but they felt familiar.

<I don't know,> Dick said. He put his head in his hands. <I just don't know.>

Bruce knelt beside him, squeezing his shoulder. <You'll remember, Dick. We'll make sure of it.>

Dick looked up. <I need an MRI.> He blinked. <I don't know why I said that. But it feels right.>

Bruce nodded. <We'll see what's going on. Do you want to rest, or do it now?>

Dick frowned. <Now. I want to know what I don't remember.>

<All right. I'll set it up.>

Dick sat in the chair a moment longer, reviewing the video. He could almost see himself there, could almost picture the events from his position in the video, but not quite. It was all still dark for him.

He found Bruce setting up the machine. <How did I know we have this?>

<You've used it before,> Bruce said. <Do you remember?>

Dick shook his head. <I don't remember a lot of things, Bruce. But I remember you.>

Bruce took his hand. <You'll remember in time. I'll help you.>

Dick smiled and hugged Bruce tight. Bruce hugged him back. It felt right, being here, even if nothing else did.


	8. Chapter 8

Jason, meanwhile, was being shown the manor, after finishing off a very fancy sandwich. He trailed along after Alfred, confused by, but not asking about, the difference between the breakfast room and the dining room, or why there were two separate parlors that looked identical. He was more worried about where Dick had gone and where Bruce had taken him, especially since Alfred was showing him every room they should have been in.

“Where's Dick?” Jason finally asked, after what felt like the fifteenth bedroom they passed.

“He and Matter Bruce are in the master study.”

“Can we go there? I'm worried about him.”

“They need privacy right now,” Alfred said, with a finality that didn't just suggest but demanded the end of the conversation.

Jason pressed his lips together. That didn't satisfy him at all. “But I could tell Bruce things I learned about Dick. And besides, Dick seemed comfortable with me.”

Alfred put a hand on Jason's shoulder. “They're not leaving you out intentionally, I assure you.” He gave Jason a small smile. “When they're ready, Dick will come back here.”

* * *

<The scan showed everything was normal,> Bruce said as they climbed the stairs back up to the house.

<Then why can't I remember?> Dick asked.

<It could be a mental block,> Bruce said. <A result of the trauma.>

<Maybe you should hit me.> Bruce stopped and stared at Dick. <You know, another blow to the head might jar it back.>

<I'd never hit you, Dick.>

Dick smiled and took Bruce's arm. <I know. It was just a thought.>

Bruce squeezed Dick's hand. <But there might be another way. Zatanna might be able to find out where your block is. Or maybe you'd feel more comfortable with Raven.>

<I barely remember who they are, so I don't think it matters,> Dick said, frowning. <There's these holes in my memory. I remember you, but only part of you. I don't remember people I should. I didn't remember Leslie. But at the same time, I feel like I should remember things.>

<We'll get it fixed, Dick. I promise.>

Dick huffed. <It's so frustrating.>

They came out of the study just as Jason and Alfred were passing by. Jason looked at Bruce suspiciously.

Dick smiled and let go of Bruce's arm, rushing over to Jason, asking how his tour was. Jason smiled back at him, letting Dick ruffle his hair as Bruce translated Dick's question.

"It was good," Jason said. "This is a really big house."

Bruce laughed. "Yes, it is. Sometimes a little too big."

Dick said something to Jason, who turned and looked at Bruce for a translation.

"Dick wondered if you've already eaten or if you're hungry. He's starving."

"I'm always down for more food," Jason said. Bruce translated this for Dick and Dick laughed, guiding Jason down the stairs towards the kitchen.

"How is he, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked as they followed them.

"His memories are scattered and blocked by something," Bruce said, his face serious once again. "He knows he trusts me, but he doesn't know why. He doesn't remember being Robin. I don't think he remembers what happened to him. But there's no sign of brain damage to account for his memory loss."

"A stress block, then," Alfred said. "Protecting himself from the trauma of being shot."

"I think that's what we're looking at. I'm going to get his friend Raven down later tonight and see if she can't find the problem."

"Very good, sir," Alfred said.

They caught up with the boys in the hall. Dick looked lost.

<It's right through here, Dick,> Bruce said, pointing them to the dining room. <Alfred will bring us something.>

Dick nodded and led Jason through the door Bruce had indicated. Bruce watched them go, worried.

"Contact Raven as soon as you've brought in the food," Bruce said to Alfred. "I don't want this to wait."

"Very good, sir," Alfred said, before disappearing into the kitchen.

Bruce entered the dining room, his face studiously pleasant.

"So, Jason, tell me what happened. How did you find Dick?"

"Luck. Like I said, he was in a dumpster," Jason said. He filled Bruce in about taking Dick home, and the landlord. "Then we went to Leslie's and that's it."

At that moment, Alfred came in with bowls of soup. Dick dug in immediately; Jason did the same, with even more gusto. Bruce watched Jason carefully.

<You should adopt him,> Dick said, suddenly.

Bruce's spoon shook. <What?>

<You should see where Jason lives. It's terrible. You should adopt him.>

Jason looked between them. They must be talking about him; he heard his name.

<I can't just go around adopting kids.>

<But Jason saved my life!>

Bruce was speechless. Dick was so earnest in his protest. Bruce looked at Jason properly for the first time. He was rather scrawny.

"How old are you, Jason?"

Jason looked between Dick and Bruce. "Thirteen."

Very scrawny for a thirteen year old.

<Let me think about it, Dick,> Bruce said.

Dick smiled and squeezed Jason's shoulder.

The rest of the meal was in silence until Alfred arrived again. "Miss Raven has arrived."

"Thank you, Alfred," Bruce said, rising. "Jason, if you don't mind, Alfred can show you to your room. Dick and I have some business to attend to."

"Again?"

Dick looked up at Bruce expectantly.

<Raven has arrived. I'm sending Jason to bed.>

Dick nodded and turned to Jason. Bruce translated, "He said he'll come see you before you're asleep."

"OK." Jason got up and followed Alfred.

<Will this help?> Dick asked.

<It should.> Bruce came over and squeezed Dick's shoulders. <It'll be all right.>

Dick smiled weakly. <I hope so.>

Bruce led him out of the dining room and back down to the Cave where Raven awaited them.


	9. Chapter 9

Raven was down in the Cave, looking as somber as ever in her dark cloak. Bruce had put on his mask before meeting her. The white eyes of the cowl looked at Dick and Dick froze, at once recognizing them and seeing them for the first time. It made him uneasy.

Raven held out her hands to Dick, squeezing his as she held them. "We've been worried about you," she said.

<I don't remember much,> Dick said in Romanes, smiling a little helplessly.

Bruce translated for Raven and she nodded. "That's what I'm here for," she said. "Please, sit down."

She guided him to the medical area and sat him down. "This will feel strange, but I promise it will help. I'll do all I can."

Bruce translated for Dick. Dick pressed his lips together, but nodded. After all, he thought, there's no reason not to trust her.

Raven touched his temples with her fingertips. "You have to relax and let me in. Think about opening the door to your mind."

Dick met her eyes, such strange colored eyes they were, and suddenly he felt light as though something in him had taken off a weight he didn't know he had. Raven chanted something and suddenly Dick wasn't there anymore, not really. He was lost within his mind, seeing himself through her eyes. There was a love and tenderness here that felt warm and comfortable. But there were shadows over places within his mind that he couldn't make out.

He followed through Raven as she journeyed through his mind. There was Jason, taking him to Leslie's. There he was again, rescuing him from the trash. But beyond that was a dark mist. Raven said something and stepped into the shadows.

Another Dick stood there, held up by two people. A shot rang out again and again. He watched himself fall and reappear standing. It was as though he was stuck within this loop. He and Raven stepped forward, catching him when he fell again, pulling him away from the shooter. The shadowy forms became clearer and then dissolved completely. The other Dick faded away, leaving them alone in Dick's mind.

"Is that what happened to me?" Dick asked in his mind.

"Yes. But it is hiding something else."

They continued on.

Hidden among another set of shadows was a young Dick, barely ten years old. He was perfectly clear, like a glass statue. Images of the Terrible Trio surrounded the boy, shouting slurs at him. Dick felt a pang in his chest.

"This isn't a memory," Raven said, "but I think this is where our problem lies. You've been trapped by them in your mind, your child's mind. We need to set him free."

Dick froze as Raven stepped forward, blocking the Terrible Trio from the boy. Dick suddenly broke free and turned to hug his younger self, to shield him from the world. Memories swirled around him. The scream of his mother, falling. The shadow of a bat. A terrifying figure rose up beside him, a dark figure of the night. But Dick wasn't afraid of this one. It wrapped its cape around them, and in the darkness of it they were safe from any outside harm.

Memories flooded to him. Being wrapped in that cape as a child. Growing to trust the man behind it. Flying with a cape of his own under the protective shadow of his Bat. Teaching Bruce Romanes. Bruce teaching him how to fight. His first solo trip.

Everything came rushing back to him at once. He staggered, his world a dazzling display of memories. He stood and let himself be caught up in the waves of his memories, rushing through a lifetime. He rejoined with Raven and the two of them were expelled from his mind. Dick came back to himself with a gasp, his mind still racing.

Raven took her hands off him. Bruce immediately gripped his shoulder.

"Dick?"

Dick blinked, then looked up at him. "Bruce. Bruce!" He leapt up from his seat and flung his arms around Bruce's neck, clinging to him. Bruce held him tight.

Raven stood up, a small smile on her face. "Do you feel like yourself, Dick?"

Dick let go of Bruce, dropping back to his feet. "I do. I remember now. Everything." He took Raven's hands in his. "Thank you, Raven. For everything."

She nodded and squeezed his hands. "I must go back to Titans Tower now. I'll see you there later."

"You will. I'll be there." Dick turned back to Bruce. "What's being done about the Terrible Trio?"

Bruce frowned. "Since you're alive, they'll get off on the murder charge. Speaking of which, we'll have to explain how you survived."

"They missed," Dick said, shrugging.

"A lucky miss," Bruce said. "You know, they don't know whether you're alive or not. They might spook easily if you came back."

Dick grinned. "I think I'd like that." Dick glanced at the stairs. "I should tell Jason I'm OK. I promised I'd check in on him."

"You should, then. I'll finish down here," Bruce said.

"You're not going on patrol without me, are you?" Dick asked.

"Just a short one," Bruce said. He patted Dick's shoulder. "You need rest."

Dick sighed. "I guess so." Bruce held his gaze. "Alright, alright! I'll go rest!"

"Now I know you're back to yourself," Bruce said, giving Dick a light kiss on the top of his head. "Go on."

"I'll see you later tonight, yeah?"

"I'll make sure to come in before I sleep."

"Good," Dick said, then headed upstairs to Jason's room. Jason was still awake when he got there.

"Jason?" Dick called, carefully opening the door.

"I'm here!"

Dick smiled and sat down on the bed beside him. "I remember things now," he said.

Jason smiled. "What happened?"

"A friend came and helped," Dick said. He squeezed Jason's tiny shoulder. "Thank you. For finding me. For taking care of me."

Jason shrugged. "It's nothing."

"It means a lot to me," Dick said, grinning.

Jason looked up at him. "What were you talking to Bruce about? At dinner, I mean. You mentioned my name?"

"Oh, that," Dick said, looking down at his lap. "I was just saying that you took such good care of me, we ought to take care of you. I was Bruce's ward as a child. Maybe he could do the same for you. Then you wouldn't have to go back to your landlord."

Jason's eyes widened. "You mean it?"

"I do. I don't know how to go about it. Or, maybe I could adopt you."

Jason grinned. "Gee, that'd be swell!"

Dick smiled and ruffled Jason's hair. "Think about it. Sleep good, OK?"

"Dick. Would...." Jason looked down. "Would you stay here? I mean, for tonight? The house just feels so big and it was nice having someone to sleep with yesterday, so...."

Dick smiled. "Of course I will, Jason. Just scoot on over and let me in."

And that's how Bruce found them, hours later, curled up around each other, safely sound asleep.


End file.
